Mysterious Mister Wolf
by Jack's-Mannequin
Summary: Kinden hates Forks. Theres too much green, too many trees. Too much of nothing. But then, there's this thing, you see; and it comes in the shape of a wolf. -- Seth/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Mysterious Mr. Wolf  
:Chapter One:**

**  
**_"The moon, the moon, so silver and cold, Her fickle temper has oft been told, Now shade--now bright and sunny-- But of all the lunar things that change, The one that shows most fickle and strange, And takes the most eccentric range, Is the moon--so called--of honey!"_

* * *

1.

Observers, welcome to the mind of a sixteen-year-old anomaly. My name is Kinden Olsen. My parents, as intelligent as I assume they must be, still had a bout of idiocy while naming their only daughter - stuck with a male name, and not even a _normal_ male name. The kind of weird male name that is reserved for late-night soap opera heartthrobs and male models. I had quickly come to the conclusion that I was most definitely not a boy, and therefore did not deserve a male name. And yet, they seemed to think it was humorous to have me attend schools where teachers thought I was a boy, and where kids called me Kinney Dinny like it was _such_ a cool thing. Ha-ha, real funny, guys.

And then! Well yes, then, I would retaliate by smacking them upside the head like they'd stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Those tactics never really worked all too well, as the result was either "You're grounded." or, "We're moving, again." And you see how the last sentence doesn't make any sense? Yeah, my fathers work _demands_ that we be available to up and moving whenever the company gets bored of sitting in one spot for two years.

So, I get all acquainted with the Neanderthals that roam the classrooms, and then my bald father comes to tell me were leaving. For the ninth time. I gave up kicking and screaming all of a million years ago, when I was seven and was angry at the universe. I mean, what else could I do? I was only seven, I couldn't (obviously) get a job, and I had some weird form of separation anxiety.

My fathers company has an obsession with places beginning in the letter F. I know, because of all the thirteen times I've moved, we'd been to: Fackler, Fagan, Famoso, Florida, Fanchers Mills, Fane, Fancy Hill, Falcon--Texas, Fall Branch, Fall Creek, Falls City, (A lot of Falls, there.) Fabyan, and Forks.

Forks, Washington.

The place I've (So far), detested the most. No, not detested, _loathed._ Okay, so there's this season called summer; the season filled with pools, tanning, beaches, shopping, and oh! The _sun._ I've discovered that Forks, Washington, lacks a sun, and therefore a summer. There's too many trees, too much green, too much shade, too many _deer. _This whole place lacked everything. It seems like there's only three people in this whole town, and I can't surmise how much they lack clothing stores, shops, or _anything _in general.

So, I summarize by saying: yes, I detest Forks with a ruthless passion. Once I turn eighteen, which _will _be in two years, I can run away from this death pit and go work my life away at a fast food restaurant. Somewhere else.

"Kinden!" I heard a call from somewhere downstairs. My room was upstairs, down the hall, and the second door to the left. I like to memorize details; not that it should've been to hard to remember where my own room was. The voice of my mom--and I cringe at the sound--did not stop shouting until I was down the stairs and in the kitchen, grabbing an apron. My mom had this thing about mother-daughter bonding. Her way of bonding was forcing child labor and letting herself laze around while I cooked dinner. Her excuse, always the same, was "Oh, Honey, you're a much better cook than your father and I can ever hope to be." And she'd slither off with this tiny smile on her face, like she won because she'd complimented me, and there was absolutely _no reason at all _for me to yell at her.

I grabbed a pot and poured some water inside, putting it on topof the new oven to let the water boil. I was reaching for the pasta when my mom came in with a magazine in hand, sitting down at the island counter--thing, where there were bar stools and abounding amounts of alcohol cabinets. I figure the other family origionally here had a drunk grandmother, or something.

"So Kinden, the school you're going to is called, um--La Push High School?" I cracked a smirk, just laughing at the fact that she never really knew what she was talking about. "You sure there mom? Oh no, don't bust a vein thinking too hard!" I cracked, grinning my possessed smile and watching the steam fly out of her ears. Not literally, of course.

"Okay, so when does school start?" I asked, stirring the water (there was actually no reason to), and adding some salt. It _still _wasn't boiling. She flipped through a page of her magazine--Cosmopolitan, I think--and shrugged.

"It starts on September 7th, I believe." She mumbled. I think she was mesmerized by the lovely picture of Jude Law. I sighed, pretty glad that school didn't start for another month or so. There was still time to, you know, hunt deer. Yeah, because _that's all there is to do here._The water was boiling by now, so I added the bowtie pasta.

I closed the lid on the pot and sat down next to my mom. She ignored me, of course, in favor of her magazine with 'delicious man hunks'--"Ew! Is that guy wearing a thong?" I shrieked, pointing at the photo of a blond guy, _my _age, no less, with this weird like, _string_ thing on.

"No, Honey, that's a speedo." She said, putting a hand on my shoulder to what, calm me down? I rolled my eyes, unbelieving, though she didn't see, and walked back to the pasta pot, staring at the floating noodles. I was begging them to cook so I could leave the kitchen.

Honestly? It creeps me out when my mom gazes hungrily, yes, _hungrily _at sixteen-year-old blond guys. And she has the weird liking for blond males, yet--her husband has red hair; and I happened to inherit that physical trait. The good thing was that I didn't get the freckles, thanks to the motherly genes from--my mom, who else?

The timer on the over signified that the pasta was done cooking, so I emptied all the water out of the pot and put the pasta back on top of the counter, to use later. I knew there was no chance of getting help from my mom or dad, so I put out a cutting mat, and got my ingredients out of the fridge. And since my mom and dad didn't help, I decided to make nothing special. I cooked some peas, onions, garlic, pancetta,--yeah, and the rest, I'm not going to blab on about. But in the end it came out looking and tasting decent, and we all sat at the table like a lovely family. Ha-ha, not really.

My mom decided to release her paranoia, and asked if my dad was cheating on her, when we all know that my dad is the nicest human being on the planet. He got up in a fit, after spending fifteen minutes of convincing unsuccessfully, and retreated back to his office, his dish left unwashed at the table.

I sighed, getting up to grab the plates--my mom was finished _a long _time ago--and took them to the sink. After cleaning everything, I left to go to my room, calling it a night between myself and my messed up mom.

My room was still in the process of being unpacked. Or, my stuff was, for that matter. My bed was up, there were sheets, there was a desk, a dresser, and closet, and a few other things. Some of my clothes were unpacked, and the rest were in those brown boxes. I still had to put all my posters up, too. It was way, _way _too hot in this room though. There was a window to my left, and another one by my bed. So I opened to one by my bed, the window parallel to another home where I could see a mother scolding her kid, and then I opened the other window.

Now, I don't know if it was because I was tired, or if I was hot, but there was this thing outside my window. I can't even call it an animal, because what I saw was large, furry, and as big as a horse. But I swear to God it looked like a wolf. And it was in the trees in our yard, and I wanted to scream; but I couldn't. There was something, _something, _holding me back. I paused, standing on the outer edge of the forest and our front lawn, and stared at the moon. And in the light I saw this magnificent color of honey, its fur sparkling and waving in the wind like it was dancing.

And as I stared, I came across an expression. And as I stared, I realized it was looking at me. And then it was gone.

Forks, Washington, was no longer what I had presumed from the start.

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_A/N: First chapter. Uhm, I don't really know what to say, except this is a Seth Clearwater story. Not Jacob, or Edward.(obviously) But, I lost my Eclipse book, so if someone could give me some information on Seth than I'd be really grateful. Uhm, comments, reviews, ect. are greatly appreciated!! Thank you! - Alex._


	2. Chapter 2

**Mysterious Mr. Wolf  
:Chapter Two:  
**

Tempest looks of you ignites a spark in the dark  
A wildest obsession to a heart that is love-struck  
Nothing can surpass sweetness smell of serenity  
As you to me, I am to you, against Love's misery

--

"Seth."

The sound of my sister's voice was unwelcome. She still had the angsty sound scratching her vocals, making it sound like she'd just gone through hell. But I was over being sympathetic. It's been what, six years since Sam screwed her over? And sure, it sucks for her to have to hear his thoughts and all, (I can hear them too), but it's around the time to _get over it._

Maybe I'm being a self-centered asshole. There's been times when I've heard people say that, not that I enjoyed it or anything. I guess it was fun to push people's buttons; my point going back to my sister.

"Seth. Wake up." She kicked me. _What the hell?_ She could be a little nicer about it. And wait, wasn't it Saturday? Yes, it was. Therefore more time for me to be obnoxious and pretend to sleep like an ogre. I started snoring, just to add to the scenario. Leah made this little scream noise, and then she grunted. _She grunted?_

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing.

"Seth! You asshole!" She screamed, kicking me in the side twice before running out of the room shaking. I was still laughing, though I wouldn't call them giggles. Giggles were for girls, I think. I rolled over, the clock on the left side of my bed stating it was 12:02 P.M. Oh, that's why she wanted me up. Well God damn, Sam is going to be pissed.

I threw the bed sheets off, taking off my shorts and jumping into the shower. I made it to Sam and Emily's house in record time today. Oh, the joys of being the youngest werewolf! As soon as I entered the house, Jake was there to give me a freaking harsh noogie, and Embry was there to pat me on the back. Not in a nice way, of course. No, his pats _hurt. _

"What the hell, guys! Get off!" I yelled, pushing Jake into the wall. God, it was so annoying when they did that. Embry kind of backed off, though he was still like, grinning in this creepy way. I glared at both of them, walking into the kitchen where Sam, Emily, Quil, and Kim were. Next to the counter was a high chair where Claire sat. She was adorable in the little baby way, and I went over to pat her on the head. Because, you know, guys aren't supposed to show their feelings and stuff. Er, well that's what Jake says, anyways.

But of course, Quil got all overprotective on Claire, and he kinda shoved me away. And then he fed her some more baby food; which, might I add is the most disgusting looking shit ever.

"Seth, come help put the dishes on the table." Emily said, handing me like, eighty-million plates stacked all in one pile. It wasn't that hard though, considering I'm, you know, ridiculously good-looking and strong.

Uh, I don't know what the good-looking part had to do with anything.

"Seth!" Emily said, again. I jumped, almost dropping the plates and turned around to look at her. She gazed at me, with that typical worried mother look on her face. She sighed, putting some napkins on top of the plate pile. "Are you okay?" She asked, her eyes checking for anything wrong with my face. I raised an inquiring eyebrow, wondering why she'd asked that. It was nice of her, but I felt perfectly fine. Except for my A.D.D and my laziness.

She sighed, again, and whacked me with the kitchen towel, telling me to hurry and put the stuff on the table. After I arranged the silverware (Even though the guys never bothered to use it), and put the plates down, I went back to the kitchen to help Emily cook.

Emily was like my second mom. My own mom had lost herself in her depression after my dad died. That was around two years ago, and since then I'd become accustomed to Emily picking me up from school, and Emily cooking me dinner and lunch and breakfast. Leah refused to even go near Emily, since she still felt betrayed and angry. I never disliked Emily. She was the nicest person I'd ever met, and I loved her very much.

Wow, I sound like a cheesy soap-opera.

But anyways, Sam was more the replacement for my dad. And Jake was like an older brother. I followed everything he did. Not that it was always a good thing to do what Jake did. He was, according to him, badass. And I should, according to him, be badass too. Yeah, well, I was born badass.

So there.

We all settled down for lunch. Well, not really settled down, it was more of a raging party. But we were all sitting? We listened to some stories from Emily and Sam, and Jared and Kim had some stuff to say too. Quil was busy watching Claire, and Embry and Jake were being, well, Embry and Jake. Leah and I were similar. We were the two who always just sat there. Me, out of respect for Emily, and Leah, in fear that she would like, rip Emily's head off or something.

But we were mostly a big happy family. It was pretty cool, in a way. Even after two years of being around these people, I still hadn't gotten used to it. The family thing, I mean.

* * *

Sam gathered us all around later in the afternoon to 'talk'. He told us that there were some knew _people _here, and that we have to be on the look out. Meaning, patrolling. And more patrolling. Which also meant no weekend, and no sleep. There was a small group of vampires in Forks. Jake asked if it was the Cullens. Sam said he didn't know. I was pretty sure it wasn't the stupid Cullens. They'd gone to Alaska, and they were most likely never coming back. Unless Bella really wanted to.

I never did have an issue with the one Cullen guy. The one with the red hair. He was really nice, and he cared about Bella. Whenever I said that to Jake, he would get all angry and start shaking, having to leave the house because he couldn't stop. I figured I just didn't understand what 'love' was; even though I could read every thought of Jake's. His agonizing over Bella was the same as Leah. It was sad, but mind consuming.

Sam began telling us what groups we'd be in. He told me to stay with the girls and watch them.

And that's when I got angry.

They never let me go with them! Just because I'm sixteen doesn't mean I can't handle myself! I lost it, I lost it a lot. And then I ran outside, because I couldn't stop the transformation, and the woods looked so, so inviting. So I stepped inside, still furious, though now I couldn't think clearly. The others didn't come after me, they were used to this. And suddenly I felt so childish. No wonder they never let me go! Dammit, I was still a kid. I hated it. I hated this so much.

I left the woods, though I knew I was no longer near Sam's house. This yard was different. There were flowers, and bushes, and--_what is that?_ It was the most wonderfully, amazingly, terrifyingly, beautifully, horribly tantalizing smell. It was like sugar mixed with honey and vanilla. It was _her._

I looked up and there she was. Her; Her face, her eyes, her smell, her hair, her skin, _everything._ I loved her. I loved her too much. It scared me. And when I looked into her eyes, I saw everything. God, I loved her. How could I love her though? I don't know her. I don't deserve her. I'm a monster.

And so I ran.

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_A/N: Somebody asked for a Seth POV, so I did it! It pretty much sucks, and I'm really sorry for the short chapter.. But thanks to the like, two reviewers I got! You guys are kickass cool. It's nice to know that my weird writing is liked. So thanks, reviewers. Um, review again, I guess? That would be awesome, and I'd review your stories too! :D Uh, okay! Thanks! - Alex_


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